


It's Just a Comfort

by tardis-eneth-nin (flippinsirens)



Series: Tumblr Writing Challenge [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Kinda Fluffy, M/M, more of a platonic thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2013-06-14
Packaged: 2017-12-14 23:00:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flippinsirens/pseuds/tardis-eneth-nin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anon requested: hi you, could you please write a fic that has platonic romantic welcome home kisses? please and thank</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Just a Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> (also, not really checked for mistakes because, yeah, tired)

The crime scene had been a bloody mess. Quite literally.

The man’s body had been severely destroyed and hung from the his second floor banister like a towel, skin hanging loosely from his frame as blood dripped onto the oak floors. It wasn’t like other crimes from the same killer. This one was made in anger, pure hatred. Will didn’t know why, but it was obvious that the victim had stepped over more than one line with his attacker. He must have done something so incredibly vicious to the other to deserve such a fate as this.

All that anger, hatred, rage.

It was toxic.

~x~

Will had arrived at Hannibal’s home fifteen minutes ago. Still in his car, he couldn’t bring himself to walk up to the front door despite knowing Hannibal didn’t mind. After all, the man did say that Will was welcome over any time should he need Hannibal’s assistance with a crime, a profile, or just ‘conversation’.

This was one of those times where Will didn’t seek any of that. He just needed someone there. As a comfort, maybe? Or perhaps, just Hannibal’s presence alone was enough to keep him grounded? Either way, he needed… something. He hoped this was it.

Running a hand over his face and down his scruffy jaw, he huffed out a breath and left his car, mustering whatever courage he needed to not turn back and drive to his own home. Oddly enough, he didn’t even need to knock on the door as it opened as soon as he stepped foot onto the porch—did Hannibal know he was coming? Or was he simply watching from a window somewhere? Will couldn’t recall seeing a light on when he first drove up to the mansion, but he supposed they must have been if the hall light was on when Hannibal opened the door to him.

“Will, please come in,” came that deliciously smooth, accented voice. The constant tension in Will’s body immediately began to melt away, ounce by ounce as Hannibal continued. “I heard you pull up. Would you care for something to drink? I do have a rather old bottle of Brandy I’ve been meaning to open.”

Will stopped walking when Hannibal closed the door behind him, shaking his head slightly. “N-no, that’s fine. I just… “ He looked away and fiddled with his shirt sleeves—a horrible nervous tick that he’s been trying to rid himself of for some time now.

When he looked back to Hannibal, he didn’t even think of what he was doing until after it was over. He had stepped forward and pressed his lips lightly quickly, lightly, to Hannibal’s. It wasn’t really anything, to be honest, but, well, it was ‘something’, wasn’t it? Between friends, colleagues in a sense, therapist and patient.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t really… that wasn’t what I came here for,” he mumbled, turning his reddened face away from the good doctor.

Five seconds ticked by slowly and then Will felt hands on either side of his jaw; hands that were slowly turning his face back to Hannibal’s, and lips pressing against his.

His heart didn’t race, his breath didn’t hitch, his legs didn’t wobble, his blood didn’t surge south.

There was no tension in it, no hidden agenda or sexual expectations.

Just a soft press of flesh against his, a parting of lips, a hint of tongue against his when he copied the action.

It lasted for a few moments, each second bringing their bodies closer, each second making the kiss deeper.

The unease, the tension, the shaky foundation Will was constantly on, melted away almost completely by the end of it. It wasn’t replaced with solid rock, but it was a start.

Hannibal ended the kiss like he started it—slowly, gently—and backed away only enough to look Will in the eyes, keeping his warm palms pressed against the sides of Will’s neck.

It wasn’t anything, really. Except it was something between friends, something that Will needed to keep him steady.

“You are always welcome here, Will. Do not be afraid to ask for whatever you need in order to keep your mind calm.”


End file.
